


Can't Help Falling In Love

by Athelye



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Journalism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Wedding Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 11:35:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20134816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athelye/pseuds/Athelye
Summary: Like a river flows surely to the seaDarling so it goesSome things are meant to beTake my hand, take my whole life tooHe wanted all to be perfect, a perfect day, not for himself alone.He wanted to remember it as perfect in those winter days, when the ice draws blue flowers on the windows, with the person who was going to swear to stay by his side for the rest of their lives.He wanted to remember it that way, hand in hand, in front of the crackling fire of their living room, in spite of the time that will have carved its sign on their tired faces.





	Can't Help Falling In Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trashsketch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashsketch/gifts).

#  _Can't Help Falling In Love_

He checked and adjusted the knot of his blue tie for the six hundredth time, looking at himself in the mirror of his half-lit room. The roll-up blind was lowered and it let a shy sunlight shine through.

He skittered a hand through his hair and huffed nervously. He couldn’t bear it any longer, he was looking forward to all the anxiety to end.

Who the hell did say that it was the happiest day of their life?! Surely, an awfully happy-go-lucky person. Yeah, as the one who was going to say “_I will_” in a few hours.

He looked around, letting his eyes to rest on the photographs of them, hung on the mirror’s frame.

The corners of his lips lifted up as a reflex, seeing that familiar face smiling at him, caught by a _click_ and frozen in time. Them on a trip to a lake, them next to the world’s most famous Ferris wheel, them in front of the Tour Eiffel..

There were about twenty memories bedecking the mirror of the bedroom.

He tried to brace up. He wanted all to be perfect, a perfect day, not for himself alone.

He wanted to remember it as perfect in those winter days, when the ice draws blue flowers on the windows, with the person who was going to swear to stay by his side for the rest of their lives.

He wanted to remember it that way, hand in hand, in front of the crackling fire of their living room, in spite of the time that will have carved its sign on their tired faces.

The door creaked behind him. A slight and dainty figure with long, black hair peeped out. She was wearing a dress in a soft shade of peach, which enhanced her smiling big blue eyes.

“Are you ready, big brother?”

He took the last, deep breath, before he turned towards her and nodded. “Yes, Nanika.”

The girl rejoiced, opening the door more and letting the light to enter. It brightened the young man, who instinctively sharpened his azure eyes.

“C’mon! Leave your cave, we have to go!” Someone yelled from downstairs.

The two siblings laughed, walking down the stairs with arms entwined. Waiting on the doorstep, there was a girl, the exact same reflex of the one next to him, who was searching nervously something in her pochette.

“You alright?” Asked her twin sister, hesitant.

She drew out the car keys, triumphant. “Now, yesss!”

Once outside, the summer sunlight made the blue-black silken suit shine brightly. Worn by the silver-haired boy, it created a contrast between colours to take your breath away.

While he was parking, he felt something coiling inside his stomach, with his heart beating madly in his chest and ears.

At the same time, some other cars stopped. Friendly faces got out of the vehicles, and it gave infused some courage to the young man. An extremely luxurious limousine got there, too, dropping his family: his mother, with one of her broad-brimmed hats and a pair of sunglasses that would’ve made Elton John green with envy; then his father, with a flawless suit as always and a serious frown on his face; at last, his brothers, the eldest and the younger, both sleek but with an insensitive expression despite the situation.

The woman immediately started to chat up an unfortunate old lady there, complaining of the hot weather, of the traffic and of other futile things typical of midlife crisis. Killua heard them talking also about the wedding, between the anguished bleats of his mother, who was wondering how a well-born boy like him ended up with someone with neither skills nor talents.

He shook his head, trying to ignore the fact that his own mother was reaffirming she’d never approved their relationship. On the day of their wedding.

The twins next to him giggled with each other, instead.

Several friends kept arriving and taking a seat into the nave. Alluka and Nanika stayed outside with Killua, who was checking if the white rose was still on his buttonhole, if the buttons of his arabesque waistcoat were still fastened, if the knot of his tie didn’t loosen of an inch, if he still had his purple cufflinks on, if..

“Big brother, relax!” Chuckled Alluka.

“When it’ll be your turn, I’ll be the one laughing.” Commented he, looking around nervously.

The two girls laughed, sincerely amused by their brother’s anxiety.

“What if he changed his mind?” He asked, more to himself, look at the watch on his wrist for the third time in five minutes.

“Killua, he can’t change his mind. He proposed!” Nanika made fun of him with affection.

And Killua knew (or, at least, he really hoped so) the other didn’t change his mind. He remembered every single second of that moment.

He'd knelt in front of his eyes, and of all their colleagues at the newsroom, who stopped right away holding their breaths. He'd pulled out his pocket a little box that Killua had seen around their home for a few days, but the other he passed him off as a ‘_fancy lens holder_’.

_You, lying photographer_, he thought while his heart stopped, unbelieving.

The picture in his mind was still so vivid that Killua believed he could stretch a hand and touch his black and soft hair.

“See? I told you he didn’t!”

It took a few seconds for him to focus on reality, to understand that the figure standing a few meters from him wasn’t a memory but his better half in the flesh.

On board of an old saffron Fiat 500 from the Sixties, there were three people. A red-haired woman and an elder one got out of it, behind them appeared a young man with tan skin, who was wearing an ivory suit with a red rose in the buttonhole. He seemed to sparkle like a star, the brightest and warmest Killua had ever seen.

At the mere sight of him, Killua’s lips curved upwards with a broad smile, while the anxiety that devoured him the past few days slipped away from his stomach.

He could have kicked himself for all the anxiety he himself put on his mind. It didn’t matter if something wasn’t in the right place, it didn’t matter what could have happened in general: the most important person of his life was there, a few steps from him. Anything else would’ve been in the background.

The twins rushed to help the old woman and walk her into the church with the red-haired one, who emotionally greeted Killua first.

The young man dressed in light got closer to him with a thousand-watt smile, while the other tried to control his own to keep up the appearances.

They were standing side by side quietly. For the first time in five years, they looked at the other without knowing what to say.

“Well.. We’re here, eh?”

“Yep..”

They smiled again, as if they were embarrassed.

“Nervous?”

“What do you think?” He puffed with a chuckle. “My mother’s already in there, you still have time to run away, Gon.”

He laughed. “No way!”

“You sure? You’ll have to bear her on every Christmas.”

Gon was about to answer when, with a deadly tyre-screech, a car stopped dead in the middle of the parking space. Four really familiar people got out of it. They were their best friends.

On the driver’s side there was a tall and slim man who adjusted a pair of sunglasses on his nose and muttered a couple of curses, searching for the keyhole to close the car, while on the other side appeared a beautiful blond boy who was clearly scolding the first for doing everything at the last minute. The last two figures were a red-haired young man and a fashionable woman dressed in purple.

The four of them, as soon as they saw the betrotheds, were petrified, as if they didn’t know what to do at that point.

Killua laughed shaking his head, while the dark-haired one addressed them with an amused “C’mon guys, go inside, we haven’t started yet.”

The bizarre company murmured a bunch of ‘_sorry_’ and dashed inside.

“You had doubts, chief editor?”

“No one.”

They giggled again together, probably also to release the tension. From the entrance decorates with flowers and ribbons, they heard the first notes of the wedding march.

“It’s our turn.”

“We really want to enter?”

“I will.”

“You have to say it later, Gon.”

The ceremony went smoothly, if you forget about the roasting heat all the men suffered with their suits.

Alluka and Gon’s aunt let some tears of joy glide on their cheeks, while his granny nodded with approval. His mother-in-law, instead, was clearly hoping in some sudden second thought. It made both the boys chuckle inside, though.

Gon and Killua glanced at each other with something warm in their eyes during all the ceremony.

Gon could barely hear the officiant speaking, going back over every single memory that brought him to live that moment.

When he applied as a photographer for the local newspaper, he would’ve never thought any of that. He never thought he would’ve found fantastic colleagues, irreplaceable friends, and certainly not falling in love with the chief editor, the very person who gave him the cold shoulder since day one, as if he was the worst of the rookies, though he personally chose Gon among the candidates.

The first smile he gave him, the first date, when he asked Gon to live together (and Gon answered before he’d even finished the question). All their travels and their adventures together..

Five years of memories, each one was a little brick of the bridge that lead them there on that day.

He was smiling so much his cheeks will have hurt for sure at the end of the day. But, how could he not smile?

Next to him, there was the most beautiful person he’d ever met, as well as the best friend he could hope for. When he looked at him, he saw his perfect half. He couldn’t imagine a different ending or a more blissful one for himself.

Despite the Zoldyck family tried to throw a spanner in the works on several occasions, Gon never lost heart once.

And now he was there, saying “_I will_” to his loved one.

In that blue-black suit, in perfect contrast to his ivory one, there was the bold who switched off the phone at 3 a.m. and on at 6 a.m., who spent all day checking and proof-reading articles, who headed groups of journalists and, with a caffeine level higher than haemoglobin in his blood, leaded the family business.

Sometimes, Gon wondered why, among all the people who courted him, Killua chose to go out with a two-bit photographer like him. Alrigth, many were courting his wallet, but the others?

One day, he asked. Killua had looked at him as always and said simply “Are you dummy?”, and then he’d burst out laughing, kissing him softly on his lips, leaving the bitter taste of coffee.

They threw like a kilo of rice at them as soon as the two stepped out of the church, hand in hand. Compliments and greetings rained from everywhere and everyone, and joyful giggles with light bubbles.

Time was a totally abstract concept for Killua. To him, they arrived at the wedding reception in the blink of an eye, while the sky started to tinge with violet and a sickle moon to keep company with a few of shy stars, which were making their way through the dark.

The reception was in a garden, plenty of yellow, white and pink roses. On each elegantly prepared table, there was a tiny silvered bell for each one of the guests, with a tag that was saying “_Kissing Bell_”. You can easily imagine its use and that, at least at the beginning of the dinner, there was an incessant jingling.

At every hint of a jingle, Gon leaned forward to kiss the beautiful boy on his left. A couple of times he did it as a reflex also for the chink of the cutlery against the plate, many more at the sound of glasses during toasts from a table or another, started in their honour.

“Gon! Nobody ringed this time!” He scolded laughing, for the umpteenth unintentional tinkle.

“I can’t kiss my husband when I want?”

_Husband_. That word still sounded weird and strange in his mind. But so it was, and Killua couldn’t feel happier, with something warm fluttering in his chest whenever he heard the other saying that word. He leaned towards his face to join their lips with a fond kiss.

Later, someone put the music on and some guests got up to chat at other tables. The groups of friends (and colleagues) that almost arrived later for the ceremony approached the couple.

“Ah! You blew yourselves, so young and already married!” Began Leorio, head of the sport department. He put his sunglasses in the breast-pocket of his coat and already removed his tie.

“For you, bachelor and close to retirement, it must be a whammy.” Killua answered back with a wry smile, making the others laugh.

“You should say the same about Palm. Y’know, our fashion expert isn’t so much younger than me!”

“Just the fact you’re wearing a _black suit_ at a wedding it’s boor, you shouldn’t be heavy-handed!” The smart woman dressed in purple chiffon slapped him on the back of the head, visibly piqued. “Anyway, you two. Try not to marry again in summer. I’ve thought I was melting!”

The two newlyweds looked at each other, perplexed.

“Well, that’s the idea actually..” Said the dark-haired, chuckling sheepishly.

The blond young man ran a hand on his face, exasperated. He wondered if he should have ended as the protagonist on his very crime news column to shut them up.

In that same moment, Alluka and Nanika threw their bouquets. One ended right in Palm’s hands, who slammed it on Leorio’s face, exulting.

Ikalgo, the red-haired one who edited the culture section on the newspaper, began to tell them about the start of the use and throwing of the bouquet.

Luckily, maybe, the twins came to help them, forcing them to play a couply game.

They made the two sit back to back and gave to each one a white rose, that represented Killua, and a red one, that represented Gon. The rules were easy: Nanika and Alluka would’ve made questions about the two boys, and they had to raise one or the other rose depending on the answer.

Immediately, a crowd of guests flocked around them, curious to see on how many answers they agreed.

“Easy start: who proposed?”

Both of them raised the red rose, smiling.

“Good. But, who confessed his feelings first?”

After a second of hesitation, they both raised the white roses.

“And who said _I love you_ first?”

Same rose. For some strange reason, the guests clapped.

“Who’s the most messy at home?”

Red roses.

“So, who tides up?”

They raised both the roses.

“Oh, really?” Asked Alluka, perplexed by the last two ansers.

“Yeah, he’s a disaster in keeping things tide up, but he works hard to help cleaning.” Commented Killua, making Gon laugh as much as their friends.

“Ahahahah! Well, you’re going really well so far. A couple questions about working. Who works more?”

They raised the white roses, with a sigh from Killua.

“And who _earns_ more?”

Nanika hasn’t finished the question yet, the red roses were already up in the air. Gon, besides being one of the formal photographers at the newsroom, also worked in a private photo studio. This was the reason they didn’t hire any photographer but relied on their friends’ shots.

“Who’s the most latecomer?”

They both raised the red one. “Though, he spent like a century to get ready!” Added Gon, giggling, and all the others laughed.

“I can’t deny it.” The other smiled.

Alluka chuckled before going on. “Who’s.. the most jealous?”

White rose.

“Who spends more money?”

Killua immediately raised the red one, while Gon stayed still to think.

“Attention people, there’s some friction!” Nanika exclaimed, amused.

The silver-haired one casted a glance over his shoulder, arching his eyebrows with a surprised smile.

“I don’t!” Exclaimed Gon, after he saw the red rose raised by the other.

“Gon, you’ve bought six zoom lenses and two sets with four camera lenses each, in less than two weeks.” He retorted laughing heartily.

“. . . Damn, I do.”

The guests laughed out loud, while the two girls were going to continue.

“Now some more.. _Intimate_ questions.”

Leorio let out some kind of a howl like a fan during a football match, supported by Zepile, one of his reporters, both of them more than tiddly. Killua shook his head with a smile, halfway between being amused and desolate.

“Who snores more?”

They stood still to think. After a few seconds, they shook their heads almost at the same time.

“Uhm.. I’ve never heard you snore, actually.. Maybe just once?” Said Killua, turning to peek on the photographer.

“Me neither, now that I think of it..” He answered, striving to remember.

“Oh well, let’s go on, then!” Announced the other twin. “Who takes the initiative/is the most passionate between the sheets?”

Killua closed his eyes chuckling while Gon bit his lip smiling. They raised the same rose at the same moment. White.

The guest clapped and cheeres at the answer, making the two newlyweds laugh more. The girls announced the end of the game and that the cake was coming.

It had two high layers, a mille-feuille covered with whipped cream, decorated with some roses and their initials written with chocolate.

Their friends bombarded them with shots while they were kissing before the cut of the cake, although the sweetest thing of that day for Gon was the way Killua caressed him

fondly with his eyes every time he caught the other watching him. A cerulean gaze so warm that whispered _I love you_ at every blink of lashes.

In that very moment, Killua was looking at him with an astonishing tenderness, and Gon couldn’t resist. He took a puff of whipped cream and smeared it on the tip of the other’s nose, who wrinkled his nose with an amused smirk before sticking out his tongue. They laughed like two kids, then Gon leaned forward to give a smacking kiss on it and removing the whipped cream.

After the cake was served, the guests started to dance, while the two families stayed at the table to chat.

Maybe because of the open bar, Leorio conquered the center of the dancefloor, gripped by a raptus of tecktonik moves, even if the music playing was reggaeton. Kurapika dashed next to him to make sure that he didn’t knock out any of the four people around him, which included the younger brother of one of the grooms.

Killua and Gon, instead, were dancing beaming, singing and having fun twirling each other alternately. When a slow began to play, their friends stopped forming a circle around them, who took each other by the hand and started to dance on Presley’s voice.

They locked their gazes and, during _Can’t help falling in love_, Killua thought they were alone in that garden.

Just him and the warm amber eyes of Gon.

Just him and the hand with a new ring on it of his best friend on his hip.

Just him and the smile of the person he loved.

Just him and his husband.

When Elvis stopped singing, Killua moved forward without a thought to kiss him again. He’ll have had all his life to do it, but he wasn’t going to waste a single occasion.

As for every kiss on that evening, applauses and cheering of their friends reached their ears.

It was a very tender but passionate kiss. He wrapped Gon’s neck with his arms and he held him tight while kissing. They brushed softly their smiles, looking at each other with eyes half-closed, and then fondly grazed their noses like two cats when they purr.

The dance music resumed, but they stayed there, hugging among the all the others who came back to dance.

Maybe, whoever said it, they weren’t wrong. It was really the happiest day of his life. The first of many.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi people!  
I'm pretty satisfied with this one, for some reason. I started it thinking about writing only about their wedding, then I got into the swing of writing and it turned out an entire new AU. I guess I'm going to write/post something else about it on tumblr, 'cause I still have many ideas for them.  
And, about it, tumblr is where the prompts came from: I was scrolling tumblr dashboard some months ago, when I saw a post ([this one](https://ceruleanspicetalks.tumblr.com/post/184212627200/i-dont-think-its-a-secret-anymore-as-to-what-my)) of trashsketch and told myself "I could try writing something about it!", then university's exams happened and I didn't write a word.  
The other day I ended up on that post again and seized the occasion. I asked her for permission, and here we are!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading it, I'd really appreciate if you let me know you liked it! *^*
> 
> _Athelyè ~❤_  

> 
> P.s. if you want to read it in my native language (Italian) [_**click!**_](https://efpfanfic.net/viewstory.php?sid=3853448)
> 
> [~ tumblr](http://athelyewrites.tumblr.com/)  
[[Athe writes]](https://athelyewrites.tumblr.com/tagged/athe-writes)


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